Tags
This poem is about my “grand” dog, written by my grandson. Genealogy isn’t just about life and death facts, but about our lives as we live them!
Two months ago, I bought a dog,
A soft dog, not like a slimy frog.
Every morning, when I’m in my bed,
I wake up and see her small, furry head.
And when I take her outside,
I am always filled with pride.
When people compliment her adorable face,
Instead of calling her an ugly disgrace.
When I go inside and feed her lunch,
From the other room, I can hear a satisfied crunch.
While she sits by her water, lapping it up,
I kneel and admire my new little pup.
While I sit and watch TV,
My dog is sitting next to me.
While on her back, she lets out a snore,
A little sound which I adore.
When it’s time for bed,
I once again see her head.
This time, she’s ready for sleep,
A memory I’ll always keep.